


The Breastmilk Battle Book: A Star Trek TNG Fanfic

by TheMidnightTalebearer



Series: The Talebearer Multiverse [4]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Breastfeeding, Deanna Troi - Freeform, F/M, Incest, Inspired by Star Trek: The Next Generation, Masturbation, Milk, Oral Sex, Romance, big tits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25910260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMidnightTalebearer/pseuds/TheMidnightTalebearer
Summary: Counselor Deanna Troi and Dr. Beverly Crusher go to war over which of them can claim Wesley Crusher to satisfy their breastfeeding fetish.
Relationships: Beverly Crusher & Wesley Crusher, Wesley Crusher/Deanna Troi
Series: The Talebearer Multiverse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881580
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Breastmilk Battle Book: A Star Trek TNG Fanfic

The following story is based in an insane premise for a Star Trek story, but I like it anyway. It contains oral sex, masturbation, fingering, and a ton of breastfeeding. Enjoy.   
  
Counselor Troi dragged herself down the wide, brightly lit, corridors of the USS Enterprise. Her every muscle burned with each step she took. Her mind felt as if it might leak out of her skull. Her one thought was to get to her quarters before she fell into a coma or went insane. Whenever she walked by someone, feelings of dread and anxiety swept over her like hail. For the first time in ages, she wished she wasn't emphatic. The emotions of her fellow crew mates were doing nothing to help her own.  
  
The starship she called home had recently been held captive by an alien entity known as Negellium. He'd experimented on or killed several members of the crew, and they'd only escaped when Captain Picard had threatened to destroy the ship. Both the Enterprise and her crew were fairly new. For many of the people aboard, this was their first encounter with the horrors of the unknown. Several people were traumatized, grieving, or just terrified. The counselor had never been so busy in her life.  
  
"Finally," she gasped when she at last entered her room. Right then, her bed looked better than the Garden of Eden. "I can't sleep like this, though," she murmured pensively. "Not with feelings of death and disaster smothering me. I need to do something to clear my mind."  
  
To that end, she slunk over to her replicator and ordered a small sundae with more than the usual amount of chocolate. Deanna loved chocolate, and it could often improve her mood. She desperately hoped it would do so now. As she slowly spooned the treat into her mouth, however, she was dismayed to find she barely felt any better. Sighing, she stripped off her leotard, pulled off her white panties, and began to unhook her bra. In the process, her hands brushed over the cups, and she felt something that made her smile for the first time in hours.  
  
The cups of Deanna's bra were thoroughly soaked. With all the work she'd done that day, the counselor had barely had a second to notice, but her nipples had apparently been leaking milk for some time, and now the undergarment was smeared with wet, spreading, stains. But it wasn't just the bra. Now that she was paying attention, Deanna could feel small trickles of milk running down her huge, full breasts, She took hold of the massive things, and each one felt heavy in her hand. It was now perfectly obvious what she needed to do to lighten her mood.  
  
With both hands, she she pushed the sodden material into her tits, groaning loudly as it brushed her stiff, puffy, nipples. She squeezed her tits a little roughly, and small streams of milk shot out, coating the back of the bra and quickly trickling down her chest. The muscles in her pussy began to undulate as Deanna kneaded her tit flesh, forcing still more milk to spray.  
  
"Oh, fuck yes," she groaned lustily. "The cloth on my nipples just feels amazing. But they need to be sucked. God, they need to be sucked," she suddenly hissed. "I need to have someone suck them dry. I need to nurse a good, little, greedy, boy! Oh, God, I have to go out again, tired or not." And with one milk-covered hand, she gave her pussy a furtive rub.  
  
Deanna unhooked her bra, cast it aside, and made a mad dash for the sonic shower. She had done this primarily to be presentable outside her quarters, but in her current state, it did a great deal more. As the waves of sound caressed her engorged nipples, the counselor whimpered lewdly and spread her legs wide. Pleasure washed over her body like a warm, summer rain, and the temptation to maul her breasts was agonizing. But she fingered herself instead, knowing she would need as much milk as possible for the perverted thing she was planning to do. The sound waves hit her clit , and Deanna swore loudly as the beginnings of an orgasm irradiated from her pussy. A second later, she was cresting a wave of pure lust, and it was fully five minutes before she could dress herself for the real fun.  
  
There were only six people aboard the Enterprise with the ability to fully lock down a holodeck. Under normal circumstances, any qualified person on the ship, when ordered, could override a deck lock. But the captain, his first officer, the chief medical officer, the chief engineer, the chief security officer, and the ship's counselor were different. When any of these people locked down a deck, it stayed locked, no matter what, and all records were kept private. In Deanna's case, this rule existed so she could use the holodeck to help people work through their problems without risking their privacy. She was going to use it to achieve something else, however: the most incredible orgasm she'd had in several weeks.  
  
Excitement and horniness had dwarfed her fatigue, but she walked toward the turbolift as calmly as she could manage. Unless the ship was in danger, no one ran around the Enterprise at night except overworked engineers and the occasional medical professional. Only one kind of person on the ship ran full tilt at night and ended up at the holodeck. And though that kind of person did exactly what Deanna was planing to do, she saw no need to out herself to passers-by.  
  
"Holodeck three," she said once she entered the turbolift.  
  
The counselor had to struggle to control her voice. The moment she arrived, she dashed inside, after making sure there weren't any witnesses within range.  
  
"Computer, full lockdown," she said at once. "Authorization Troi Alpha Epsilon Gamma."  
  
"Lockdown confirmed."  
  
"Run program Troi 1347a."  
  
"Program ready."  
  
"Begin program."  
  
The black walls and yellow grid lines vanished at once, replaced with a replica of the counselor's quarters. Quaking with lust, she perched herself on the bed and waited. Two seconds later, her door chine sounded.  
  
"Come in," she answered it huskily, unable to help a lewd groan. And the door opened to admit Wesley Crusher, aged fifteen.  
  
"Hi, Mommy," the teenager opened, sitting beside her right away. "I really hate to bother you, but you said if I was hungry-"  
  
"You could never bother me, my dear," she cooed softly. "Mommy loves nursing good little boys like you. Did you miss Mommy's nipples? Mommy's big, puffy, nipples? Show Mommy how much you missed her hard, milk-filled nipples."  
  
And she unzipped her outfit until she was topless, feeling her nipples stiffen deliciously under Wesley's needful gaze. Without a word, he locked his lips around the left one, teasing the turgid thing with his tongue. Deanna let out a whimper and cradled Wesley's head, while the boy sucked milk like a starving baby.  
  
Electric waves of pleasure tore through her tit instantaneously each time Wesley's mouth eagerly tugged at her nipple. He was latched on tight, but milk and drool still dribbled out every now and then, to slide down Deanna's massive tit flesh. The counselor was moaning obscenely now and hungrily slurping milk from her right tit. She could feel raw lust begin to consume her as well as a huge, wet, stain between the legs of her uniform. She released her tit, causing milk to spurt on her stomach, and forced her fingers into he twat through the fabric.  
  
Wesley was sucking even harder now, and squeezing Deanna's tit to force more milk into his mouth. He felt the hand that was cradling his head draw tight as the counselor, wild with lust, began pulling his short, straight, hair. The real Wesley Crusher might have yelped with pain, but Deanna's creation kept right on sucking. Wet slurping and sploshing sounds filled the air, along with the strong scent of the counselor's blazing pussy.  
  
"Oh, God, squeeze that tit, Wesley! That's right! Suck it like a baby! Get every last drop of Mommy's milk down your throat! Drain me dry, do you hear me? I want you to drain that tit dry! Oh, fuck. Gobble Mommy's milk up! Gobble it up! Keep it up, dear. You're making my pussy so damn wet! You're gonna make me rip a hole in the crotch of this damn uniform. Then what'll I do? I didn't bring anything else! I'll have to go out there ass naked and dripping with milk! Dear God, I want them to see me! I want them all to see these giant DD tits just covered in milk! Oh, baby, please keep sucking! Keep sucking for Mommy! Help soak your mommy's pussy, and make it cum! Oh fuck! Suck that fucking titty and make me cum! Bite my fucking nipple! Bite me, Wesley! Fuucckkk!!!!"  
  
Deanna's cunt spasmed violently around her fabric-coated fingers, spraying them with her juices as she cried out in lust. The force of her orgasm sent both nipples spurting wildly so that the counselor's tits, stomach, and thighs were well coated within a minute. Wesley couldn't swallow fast enough to keep up, and milk spurted around his lips, cascading down Deanna's tit as she writhed in ecstasy. At last, she collapsed in a heap, her crippling fatigue returning with a vengeance.  
  
"Computer, end program," the counselor moaned tiredly. The she swore as the bed vanished, and she fell to the floor.  
  
The real Wesley Crusher was one holodeck away,, basking in the glow of his genius. Some time ago, he'd invented a module that allowed him to sound like any of the senior staff, including his mother. With that in hand, all he'd needed was his mother's authorization code. An hour's snooping had easily turned that up. Now he was locked away in a secure holodeck. All he would have to do was purge his records before his mother checked them.  
  
In the meantime, the boy was completely naked, lying on a bed in Deanna's counseling center. Counselor Troi was beside him, wearing a blue, thong bikini, and sporting breasts twice as big as his mother's. Each of her nipples were huge, erect, and puffy, just begging Wesley to shove them in his mouth. Her ass was a marvel: large, firm, and bouncy. Wesley began groping it right away. The counselor was jerking his dick rhythmically as a bit of milk leaked through her bikini top.  
  
"This may be the best idea I've ever had!" Wesley moaned happily.  
  
"Well, unless we do something, you won't have many more. I don't know how you did it, but I've been told you've contracted a rare disease. The only known cure for it is human breastmilk. So I'm going to need you to open nice and wide while Mommy rams her whole fucking tit down your throat."  
  
Wesley smiled broadly, and acted on instructions, giving Deanna a firm smack on the ass.  
  
Dr. Crusher was hard at work in Sick Bay, struggling to deal with the victims of the alien attack. Some cases were simple enough: a person might just need something to help them sleep. Others, like the little girl with the failing heart, were more complex. She was seemingly tireless, moving from bed to bed with practiced ease. Every now and then, the doctor would call out an order to one of her subordinates. As the night wore on, the bay grew emptier, but Dr. Crusher pressed on until even her patients demanded she get some rest. It was two in the morning before she finally yielded. When she got back to her quarters, she found Wesley fast asleep.  
  
Motherly affection welled up in her weary frame. She had always been close to Wesley, and she loved him dearly. Very quietly, she fought for him behind the scenes when people tried to dismiss him because of his age. Beverly walked to her son's bedside and gently petted Wesley's sleeping body. She gave him a light kiss on the forehead, and headed for her room, where a brand new feeling swept over her. One she had fought tooth and nail for years now.  
  
"Damn it. Not now," the doctor swore as she felt her slit begin to betray her. It grew warmer and wetter at the sight of her son, urging Beverly to think and do things no mother should. She tried to ignore it, but the feeling spread upward, calling her small, perky, tits to life. To her shame, Beverly was actually licking her lips thinking about how much bigger Wesley's cock must be by now.  
  
She banished that thought from her mind at once, scrambling for anything to distract her from thoughts of fucking Wesley. In a panic, she settled on her private holodeck records, something she hadn't had time to look into in weeks. Going to the most recent one, she was struck dumb to find that it was logged just over three hours ago. Going into her room and shutting the door, she queued up the record, and nearly died of shock.  
  
"Fuck! That's it, you bastard! Suck Mommy's big tits! Suck Mommy's big, fat, fucking, tits! You love all that Mommy milk don't you, bitch? You like being Mommy's greedy, little, slutboy! Go on! Swallow my tit! Ram it down your throat! Milk your whore mother like a goddamn dairy cow! Chew that tit, you fucker! Grind that nipple in your teeth! I'm a nasty gutter slut! I want it fucking rough! Oh, God, Wesley, use your teeth on your suck-slut mommy! Be your mommy's little tit-hungry, milk-swilling, bitch! Oh shit! Grab my ass! Grab my motherfucking ass! Make it jiggle like a cum dump's fucking should! Would you like that, Wesley? A fucking huge ass, big titty, milk-spewing, cum dump mommy? A nasty, stinking, cum rag you can nut on over and over again? Right on these monster, milk-filled, tits? Christ! Smack that ass! Smack your mother's fucking ass. I want to see handprints on my cheeks for days! Shit! Finger that hole! Ream my fucking butthole-"  
  
There wasn't a word for what Beverly felt as she shut the record off, unable to take any more. Deep down, she knew Wesley, like all boys, had sex hormones, and that those hormones would inevitably lead to inappropriate behavior. But this...she'd just seen her fifteen year-old son madly slurping the ship's counselor's breasts and sticking his fingers in her anus, all while he had his penis in her vagina and was pumping in and out like there was no tomorrow. And the things he made her say. Wesley had never talked like that in his life. As least as far as Beverly knew he hadn't.  
  
He'd made Deanna into a slut, turned a deeply caring friend of hers and his into nothing more than a holodeck porn star. How could her boy, the innocent, quiet, genius, peacefully sleeping in the other room, have...she roiled with disgust as she considered what she'd seen. And worst of all, was that he'd made his slut call herself mommy. Beverly wondered if, after all she had done, Wesley preferred his abomination to her. Or perhaps what he wanted was Deanna to be his mother. The real one, who would probably be as shocked as she was to see what Wesley had come up with. That thought almost literally stung the doctor's heart, and she resolved to wake Wesley up, and settle the matter at once.  
  
She started to get up before she realized something horrifying: the entire crotch of her uniform was soaked through. Worse, her right hand was covered in her juices. Without even realizing it, she had masturbated through the entire production. And she'd cum more than once. The seat beneath her was sodden and she could suddenly feel delicious pleasure licking at her bones. Beverly shook her head in stunned disbelief. She suddenly didn't feel like talking to Wesley any longer.  
  
Three days after The Incident, as Beverly called it in her mind, she made an appointment to see Counselor Troi. The frazzled doctor had no idea where else to turn, and the counselor had always been honest with her and understanding. She knew if anyone could help her out of the tangle her life had suddenly become, Deanna would be the person to do it.  
  
"And I don't even remember masturbating," Beverly said, finishing her story. "Deanna, do you have any idea what's wrong with me?"  
  
"There's nothing wrong with you, Beverly. Or with Wesley for that matter. We all have fantasies about societal taboos. Fantasies can be healthy. They can teach us about ourselves. They can also let us express and experience our ideas without hurting others. The best thing to do with a fantasy is acknowledge it, and move on. That way, you control it, instead of the other way around. Whenever you repress something, it always surfaces in negative ways. You have a fantasy about making love to Wesley. Acknowledge that. Enjoy it. And then move on. I know that's strange to hear, Beverly, but believe me, it's for the best."  
  
"That makes a lot of sense, Deanna, but Wesley's my son. I can't-"  
  
"Yes you can, Beverly. It's just a silly dream. Think about what Wesley did the other day. Do you honestly believe he really thinks of me that way? Of course he doesn't. Wesley was aroused. He just needed an outlet for his lust for a few moments. I'm not going to hold that against him, and neither should you. And you shouldn't hold it against yourself, Beverly. You have enough on your plate as it is if you ask me. And one more thing.. Wesley knows who his mother is, and I know he appreciates everything you've done for him."  
  
"Thank you, Deanna. Thank you so much. You've been really helpful."  
  
"You're welcome, Beverly. I'm glad to hear that."  
  
Dr. Crusher left Troi's presence feeling marginally better about the whole incident. She reflected that she was right: repressing her thoughts about Wesley hadn't served her well. She had acknowledged them to herself, but she was unsure if she could ever allow herself to enjoy them. At length, she decided she had to give it at least one try. Sighing, she went back to Sick Bay to finish her duty shift. When that was done, she locked herself in holodeck two.  
  
They were in her quarters, she and Wesley. The boy was tinkering with one of his various inventions.  
  
"Wesley, dear, could you come here a moment? I need you to help me with something a little awkward."  
  
"Sure, mom. What is it?"  
  
"Well...I have a condition called galactorrhea. It ends up affecting about twenty-five percent of women. What's happening here is, even though I'm not pregnant, my breasts are producing a lot of milk."  
  
"Uh..mom?" Wesley said, squirming uncomfortably.  
  
"I know, Wesley. My breasts aren't really something you're overly eager to discuss with me, but you're not a little kid anymore, and I honestly need your help with them. They're painfully full, and I need to relieve the pressure. Now I could express the milk myself, but that would be very uncomfortable for me. I also don't have any reason to store it, and wasting it is out of the question. Wesley, I'd like you to help me express it more naturally."  
  
"What does that mean, Mom?"  
  
"It means I want you to allow me to nurse you."  
  
"Wha..." Wesley sputtered. "Mom, I can't-"  
  
"I know it's awkward, Wesley, but I need you to do this for me. I'm in a lot of pain here, son. Please help your mother out."  
  
"Well...alright, mom."  
  
"Thank you, Wesley. Now I'm going to have to remove my top for you. I know. I know, but I need you to stay with me here. I promise I won't keep you very long."  
  
So saying, Beverly peeled off the top of her uniform, and removed her slightly wet bra to reveal two BB cup tits. As she had said, they were full to capacity, and each one looked tender to the touch. Very gingerly, Wesley approached his mother, blushing beet red, and avoiding her glare. She leaned him back, wearing her most consoling expression, and cradled his head exactly as she would have with an infant.  
  
"Please, Wesley," she pleaded when he hesitated. With a sigh, he latched on to her mother's left nipple.  
  
When his lips made contact, Beverly's nipple felt like it had been shocked. The doctor struggled to stifle a moan as electric current sailed through her body. Her entire frame seemed to bloom with fiery passion, but she struggled to tamp it down so as not to scare off Wesley. She cradled him tighter, almost purely by motherly instinct, and gently, affectionately, caressed his hair.  
  
Wesley had been jittery at first, sucking weakly and erratically, but his mother's ministrations were producing a tender calmness in him. Beverly could see his eyes dilating, and feel his heart beating quicker, both signs that her son was forming an attraction to her. He was sucking regularly now sending wave after sensual wave of the deepest pleasure rolling through the doctor's body. She quivered and shook, mewling softly in Wesley's ear, enjoying the warmth of his mouth and the soft wetness of his tongue.  
  
She felt the flow of her milk as her son pulled it into his mouth. She felt his lips form a smile at the sweetish taste. He was enjoying this as much as she was. She could see that, and the thought of it made her cry out passionately. She thought surely that unmistakably sexual expression would cause Wesley to leap away from her that instant, but the boy didn't move. Instead, one of his hands started trailing through his mother's hair, while the other lightly caressed her free breast.  
  
Beverly felt her warm juices spilling down her legs as Wesley actively endeavored to please her. He was kneading and sucking, and licking her tenderly, and the heat of it warmed her to the tips of her toes. She was positively shaking, like a leaf in autumn, and her free hand was now softly caressing her little boy's face. At last, her left breast ran dry, and she helped Wesley switch sides. When he was latched on again, she delicately took out her boy's cock.  
  
Wesley moaned appreciatively on his mother's nipple as Beverly lovingly stroked his shaft. With gentle squeezes and a few light brushes about the head, He was stiff in moments. Dr. Crusher loved the feel of it. It was thick and firm, but soft and pliable. Each little touch of it gave her an odd satisfaction. When she started jerking it in earnest, Wesley sucked her breast more deeply, and rolled the nipple of the other one in his hands. Beverly was panting now. She felt like she had a high fever, and she could feel a budding orgasm tingling all over her. She jerked her son faster still, because she wanted him to cum with her, and just as his cock began to spurt, her climax flared into being like a sudden forest fire. She fell back on the bed and writhed in the wonderful feeling sweeping through her frame like a cleansing wind.  
  
She kissed Wesley for two minutes before she remembered that she was in the holodeck, and her entire experience had been a product of her imagination. She decided something within herself right at that moment: her fantasy couldn't remain a fantasy any longer. She decided the counselor had been right after all about fantasies teaching you about yourself. She knew now that she needed Wesley in her life, both as a son and as a lover.  
  
Deanna had just discovered something about herself as well: that she was having a good deal of trouble taking her own advice. She'd always had a fantasy about breastfeeding Wesley. And it had always been her favorite. Absolutely nothing made her wetter. But it had always been just that: a fantasy. Just a silly, little, dream the counselor sometimes allowed herself to have. Then her good friend Beverly had shown her the record, and try as she might, Deanna couldn't get the images out of her mind.  
  
Wesley, the real Wesley, had been slurping her tits like she was the last woman he would ever see in life. While he fucked her. While he fingered her asshole. She'd ruined two leotards just thinking about it. He wanted her. That much was clear. He wanted to fuck her. More importantly to Deanna, he wanted to suck her. Her naughty, little, fantasy could be a reality at any moment. All she had to do was say something.  
  
But could she say something? Should she? She was supposed to acknowledge her fantasy and move on, not potentially throw the entire ship into disarray. What would Beverly think of her if she ever found out? Hell, someone, somewhere was bound to find out. What would Captain Picard's response be to finding out that his counselor was getting her ass fingered by an underage boy? Was it worth it Deanna asked herself, and the answer that came back was, "most certainly not", but that answer did nothing to quell the fire in her pussy, and no person can ignore the fires of lust forever.  
  
The significant thing happened some two days later. Beverly had finally cobbled together a plan she hoped would work on a son that wasn't holographic. She was scared, tired, and nervous as hell. Whenever Beverly was scared, tired, and nervous as hell, she sought out Deanna, who usually made things better. The problem this time was she'd first asked the computer to locate her son, and it had found him in Deanna's quarters. In the entire time Wesley had been on the Enterprise, Beverly had never found her son in any quarters but her own. A sort of premonition seized her, and acting on it, she beamed herself directly to the counselor.  
  
She was naked and groaning obscenely as Wesley went to town on her massive tits. The boy was also naked, rock hard, and spangled with milk. Precum was leaking from his dick in huge droplets. He looked happier than a sugar-addicted kid in an unsupervised candy store. As soon as the pair saw Beverly, they froze in place. Wesley suddenly looked like he'd seen Casper the Friendly Ghost go on a five state killing spree with a chainsaw.  
  
"I...I..can explain-" Wesley croaked.  
  
"I don't need an explanation!" Beverly fumed. "It's fairly obvious what's happening here. Put on your clothes, and go to our quarters. I'll deal with you after I have a talk with Deanna."  
  
"No one is 'having a talk' with me," Deanna countered. "I'm not some child you can scold and put on time out!"  
  
"No, you're some adult who can easily go to jail for the statutory rape of a fifteen year-old!"  
  
"Are you threatening me? Because you can easily go there too! Or did you forget masturbating to children having sex is a crime? You soaked a chair watching your son have sex with me in the holodeck. Remember that?"  
  
"Unconsciously," she shouted as she saw Wesley's jaw hit his chest. "I did that unconsciously. Then I made an appointment for counseling. With a woman that told me not to let my fantasies control me! Would you like to tell me what happened to that?"  
  
"Wesley wants to fuck me! That's what happened to that! I was controlling my fantasies perfectly well until somebody showed me that! God, Beverly, after a display like that, what did you expect me to do? Look me in the eye and tell me you weren't about to do the same thing! Go on! Lie and tell me you weren't looking for Wesley so you could go to bed with him yourself!"  
  
At which statement, Wesley's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Deanna wanting to have sex with him was one thing, but his own mother? The poor boy didn't know whether to be confused, turned on, or frightened, or all of them at once.  
  
"I was looking for Wesley to tell him I love him. You told me repressing things brings negative consequences, so I was planning to tell my son the truth, not drag him into some tit milk orgy."  
  
"Bullshit! Wesley was going to end up sucking someone's tits eventually. You're just upset that I got to him first!"  
  
"You love me, mom?" Wesley interjected, looking mystified. "You love me...romantically?"  
  
Beverly started at the question. This was not how she had planned to tell him, midway through a shouting match with a naked Counselor Troi. But she had planned to tell him. And she was bound and determined that Wesley should at least have the opportunity to return her feelings.  
  
"Yes, Wesley," she said quietly, "for several years now. I've been trying to deny it, but I can't anymore. Please put on your clothes so we can go home."  
  
"He doesn't want to go home," said Deanna. "He wants to stay here with me. I-"  
  
Suddenly, Deanna's door flew open.  
  
"Forgive the intrusion, counselor, but...what the hell is going on here? Deanna! Why is this boy naked in your quarters? Dr. Crusher, I require an explanation."  
  
No one was eager to give Captain Picard an explanation, but he was the captain, so he got one anyway. Between the three parties, they story was conveyed fairly quickly, and when they attempted to read his expression, they liked not the look of it at all. After several minutes of introspective silence, in which Picard seemed to be considering the life choices that had brought him to this moment, the captain finally spoke.  
  
"So am I to understand that my chief medical officer and ship's counselor are essentially fighting over breastfeeding a minor? And that special holodeck lockdown procedures were used to conceal programs featuring that minor in sexual activity? And that when Dr. Crusher arrived, Counselor Troi was breastfeeding that...let me stop there. This is the Federation starship USS Enterprise. The flagship. We are here to represent Starfleet. Its goals. Its ideas. We are ambassadors to entire new worlds and civilizations. That is an incredible responsibility, and one not given lightly. It has to be earned every hour of every day through hard work and dedication. If you feel you are not up to that task, say so now, and you'll be dropped off at the next starbase. This crew is the finest one in the fleet. Nonsense like this will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
The captain was assured that he did indeed make himself clear, and his three subordinates discovered how charged with punishments the pad would be. Both women were relieved of duty for a month and given an official reprimand. Wesley was kicked off the bridge for the same period of time, and he was no longer allowed to use any of the ship's computers unsupervised. The lockdown codes were all changed more frequently, and Wesley's voice module was destroyed.  
  
Eventually, the Breastmilk Battle, as Wesley called it, was settled when the boy chose a mother's love over big tits. The doctor and counselor eventually mended their friendship, and the captain heard no more of the affair. The Enterprise flew on and had many adventures, until even the four people involved could barely remember the conflict. Wesley, the real one, eventually went to bed with his mother, and though it wasn't nearly as wild as he might have liked, it was one of the great highlights of his life. No record of the battle exists among the Enterprise's records, and that is likely just as well. No one wants the task of explaining a breastmilk battle to a Starfleet review board.


End file.
